Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Winter has made a silent exit….the days are slowly getting longer and warmer….the mornings and evenings are pleasant....music and love seems to be in the air...with birds chirping and flowers blooming.....there is a vibrant energy and enthusiasm all around that doesn't fail to rub on you....Yippee Springs here! Do I need to waste words when Kalidasa has put it so well...

Trees put forth flowers, waters abound in lotuses, women’s thoughts turn to love, the air is sweetly scented; mornings are pleasant and days delightful; all things are more alluring in springtime, my love.

When will we learn to look at things objectively?... When will we put aside religion and think straight while analyzing people, things and situations?..... Will we ever realize that we are being fogged by the miasma of our narrow-minded exhales? Too bad it is sun salutation this time..

Monday, January 29, 2007

No! I don’t smoke or drink or am not into any other weird stuff that the title of this post might help you imagine. I am an Internet junkie. I can, and, I do spend hours online, most of the times doing stuff that does not ahem qualify as ‘value-adding’. School got me used to 24 hours of high speed Internet. Post-graduation, I found myself in a big city where people were hard to come by. In these testing times the WWW was my only solace. My work in the tech-sector only further fostered this friendship and I guess I never realized when we became almost inseparable. Granny’s rants fell on deaf ears, dad’s disapproving look was quickly dismissed and mom’s Gandhigiri also failed to instigate a change. Like every addict, I was aware of my addiction and its ill-effects; yet I wasn’t doing anything about it and I liked to think I was helpless.

New Year’s time is usually a good time to take stock of life and make amends. It is during this reflective juncture that I happened to read this quote. Write it down. Written goals have a way of transforming wishes into wants, can’ts into cans; dreams into plans and plans into reality. Don’t just think it – ink it. It made sense, and so I penned all the do’s and don’ts and proclaimed it to the entire world here. Most New Year resolutions never go past the first few weeks of the New Year; so a research article claimed. It partially attributed the failure to the fact that the goals are not SMART goals. A quick look at my list and I realized that I needed to be more specific. With a long weekend on my holiday calendar I decided to take some real steps towards tackling my addiction. I promised myself that I would stay away from the Internet for 3 days. Talking about resolutions makes you stick to them, I’d heard; so I dashed a quick “Miss Me” note to some friends telling them about my resolve.

I lingered in the living room after dinner. “What’s the matter today? Aren’t you going to surf?” Granny asked mischievously. I was about snap back; “No I am going to be off it for 3 whole days and spend time with you instead.” I proudly announced. We chatted for a while before turning in. Yess! I had made a start; I congratulated myself. “What’s the usernamefor our Internet connection? Have you changed the password?” - Dad. “There let me help you with that.” I promptly offered jumping out of bed. I was tempted to have a quick look at my email as I got him connected, but checked myself. “You will have to watch out for these weak moments for the next 3 days. They will be waiting to pounce on you at every corner.” I reminded myself.

Early to bed, early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise. I sure felt great as I awoke to the sounds of the birds early the next morning. Chai-walk with Granny-jog-meditation was to be my morning ritual for the next 3 days. Gone was the feeling of “I need more sleep”, the dark circles and moi’s beauty gained a new dimension. As Dad busied himself with some work, I pulled out my lappy. “I am going to play you music over the Internet” I suggested enthusiastically. All I got is a cold stare to which I succumbed. Ah! Another small victory. Temptation usually comes in through a door that has been deliberately left open. Remembering this, I gave my lappy a goodbye kiss and tucked it safely into the laptop bag. This bag then went into my sister’s wardrobe. Out of sight, out of mind – I hoped this would work for me. The first day was really tough, every few hours I was seized by a strong urge to pull out lappy, hook it up and surf. Those times I tried to divert my attention by reading. One way in which the Internet has taken its toll on me is – lessened concentration. So reading didn’t come so easily too, but I just kept at it. “This would make a great story.” I thought and started observing my moods and thoughts more closely. Saturday (2nd day) went by smoothly; I was travelling and out of home all day. By Sunday I had sort of gotten used to not starting my day by booting the lappy. I busied myself with some household chores.

By the end of Sunday night however I was bursting to tell everybody what a good girl I had been. So out I pulled lappy dear and woohoo I was connected…

Looking back the 3 day abstinence worked out well for me. I felt relaxed and satisfied that I had not splurged my holidays. I think I am going to practice this more often….

Sunday, January 28, 2007

The human mind is a funny instrument. Most times it comes across as a rational device prone to logical thinking. Yet, there are times when it makes you comply with the seemingly absurd and unimaginable. During such times these requests can be attributed to intuition, blind faith, desperation, frustration, or may be sort of a last-resort. These were the thoughts that crossed my mind when I heard my Dad announcing a trip to Shirdi. While there is nothing weird in visiting Shirdi, it does raise eyebrows when it comes from a person who has always stayed away from rituals, god-men, and fervent displays of religion; whose focus has been on practicality, whose principle in life has been ‘Humata, Hukhta, Hvarshta’.

We found ourselves in Shirdi an hour before noon amidst a multitude of devotees. Apparently we were late to gain entry to the holy chambers, in spite of having passes arranged for. Dad was ready to make a turn-back, but Granny persisted. (She isn’t the one to give up so easily.) So after some phone calls, we were put at the end of a queue that seemed to be progressing quickly. The women and men were separated just before entering the holy sanctum. The chamber was resonating with a soothing chant of ‘Aum Shree Sai Nathaya Namaha’. It took me a while to get used to my surroundings; women shuffling around me to get a better view of the idol, people chanting and murmuring prayers, unoblivious of everything, regulars acknowledging each other or explaining newbies like me what to expect next, little boys crying at being separated from their mothers. The chamber was ornate with designs embossed on silver. The benign idol of Sai Babalooked upon us as multiple air-coolers and fans kept us cool. In the meanwhile, the stage was being set for the daily aarati (prayer recital). The aarati started at noon; my hands folded as an automatic response to the recital, but leaving that I was not sure how to behave.

I am a believer; I believe that there is a supreme power and that man does have his limits. I am okay with calling this supreme power God. I haven’t thought much about God beyond this simple belief that I hold in my heart. So I don’t think twice if I have to bow before Ganesha or Shiva or any other Hindu deity. However, this was a new experience. The idol which everybody was worshipping here was that of a mortal human being; just like me. I don’t know much about the life and work of Sai Baba and so feigning zealous devotion was a far cry. My mind was coagulated by a million thoughts….

The pictures in the museum portrayed Sai Baba as a simple man. Now, his idol was seated on a silver throne, dressed in a jazzy purple (!) kaftan and his head adorned a gold crown. “What an irony..,” I sighed. “The time and money invested in this enterprise could move mountains,” I said to myself. “Baba, do you approve of all this?” Oh well, I’ll save my rant for another post….

As I tried to find my way out of this mental maze, I noticed two words on the silver embossing “Shraddha-Saburi” (Faith-Patience). That was the Eureka moment. I waited outside for Dad after the aarti. He seemed happy and relieved at the same time. “Faith and Patience, Daddy,” I exclaimed as I hugged him. He understood.

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Diya threw herself on the four-poster bed; it had been a long agonizing day and all she wanted was some peace, solitude and sleep. She looked at their picture on the mantlepiece; a half smile broke on her lips, but it disappeared before it bloomed fully. She turned off the lights and tried to think of happy things as she tucked herself into her favorite blanket. The room was silent except for the continuous ticking of the time-pieces…..click-clicks of the big grandfather clock mingled with the tick-tocks of the small alarm clock. The more she tried to ignore the sounds, the more they seemed to hammer the eerie silence of the night. Sleep evaded her and thoughts barraged her mind like heavy hail. A silent tear rolled down her cheek. “Why had he gone away?” her mind screamed, but the night offered no answers.....

Saturday, January 20, 2007

With her smooth dusky skin and thick shiny black hair, she looks like any other Indian girl. At a little over 5 feet and slightly built Chinnu (her favorite endearment to-date) does not stand out in the crowd; unless, you notice her eyes. Her big, black twinkling eyes; they are so full of life; a testimony of her unending enthusiasm and zest for life.

Chinnu is not just a friend, but also a philosopher, a guide, a doting mother who handles her tantrums, a baby to her when she is done mommying, and very much an irritating sibling. Their personalities are poles apart, yet miraculously, they connect. One moment you will find them fighting like cats and the next moment they will be in their own goofy world.

Chinnu is her role model. In the short span that they have spent together, Chinnu has inducted her to many of life’s lessons, unknowingly. Chinnu taught her to enjoy life and “living the moment”. To value your loved ones, to treasure every moment with them, the power of one’s mind, the importance of ambition and goal setting are some of the lessons that she will never forget. Thanks to Chinnu, she now truly believes that it is not one’s aptitude but one’s attitude that determines which way one heads in life. Most importantly, Chinnu has acquainted her to the art of giving.

There was a time when they saw each other every single day, but now, being miles apart they have learnt to live with short phone conversations and replaying their memories….

The mother-in-law (MIL) – daughter-in-law (DIL) duo, make an interesting pair; they are poles apart yet they are very similar when it comes to some quirky things. The more I think about them, the more I feel that the MIL, is like a lioness; aggressive, outspoken and gregarious and the DIL like a cow; silent and submissive.

The chubby cow takes her own sweet time for doing things whereas the lean lioness is agile as ever. The cow relishes good food, and the lioness enjoys cooking over eating. “I can’t” is the cow’s favorite excuse. The lioness, on the other hand, believes that there is nothing that she cannot do. The lioness is an excellent manager but for the cow, management seems like an unnecessary chore. The timid cow prefers the beaten path where as the courageous lioness is open to new ways and things.

Each has survived a hard past and emerged strong from the experience. Both lead a simplistic life-style and are completely non-egotistical. Perseverance and determination are traits that they both display. Neither of them is the effusive, mushy kinds. Neither can handle shoes nor deal with the subtle humor that they are often subjected to. Their enthusiasm, energy and habit of keeping busy, always amazes the people around them.

Like typical MIL-DIL, they have had their differences, however, they have never let these differences shatter the peace of their home. I shudder to think of the way life would have been had they both been lionesses or both cows. Kudos to their teamwork! May they both live long and well…

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Was listening to a discourse by Satguru Jaggi Vasudeo of the Isha Foundation Many of his thoughts made sense to me....infact, the more I mull over them, the more they ring true....Here they are for your consumption...He says...

Fundamentally life is management. We are managing things in the external world, as a part of whatever it is we are doing in life. However in order to be good at what we are doing well, we must learn to manage ourselves, because ultimately our mind/body is the only thing that we have control over....

In doing what we are doing, we have to manage situations and essentially people. So how can one say that we are managing people well?....He says that a good manager is someone who fosters an environment such that every individual is elevated to his/her peak potential, every individual gets a positive feeling about the space in which they are operating...and every individual rises to the peak of their love, peace and compassion...

Such a simple yet profound thought! Imagine how beautiful the world would be if we all learnt to practice this simple truth...

The holiday season and cheer are long gone. This is generally the time for merry-making, gift-shopping, and also to an extent thinking about the past, taking stock of the present and weaving new dreams for the future. Ever wondered about what would be the best and most cherished gift that you could gift somebody and anybody? .....LIFE would be it.

Recently I happened to read 2 articles about organ donation. The articles made me aware of the sorry state of organ donation in India and the need for the masses to be educated about the this concept. I was all fired up about pledging my organs after the reads. However, I think the decision will require some more study and contemplation.

I thought it might be a good idea to trigger your thought process towards organ donation. Here are the articles that impacted me....

INDIA POISED, an initiative by the Times of India group was kick started on the 1st day of the new year. While I can't say much about the way India is positioned and stuff, I am confident that we are headed in the right direction. I really liked the anthem of this initiative..Filled me up w/ a lot of positivity and hope!

Friday, January 05, 2007

She was both hurt and angry. Her kohl lined eyes were red from crying in the shower; there was no way she was going to have him think of her as weak and vulnerable. Crying hadn’t washed away the hurt, as she had hoped. It was still there, throbbing even harder every time she thought about it. In her own thoughts, she silently stood staring out of the window. The sunrays caught her amber eyes and they glowed with the fire within her. He saw her just then and realized his mistake. He was sorry and drew her close to him. She wanted to fight him off, yet, she melted in his embrace. After all, he was all she had in the far-away country that was now their home…

Ishwari was tired of answering the standard set of tactical questions, of the lofty talks of the exalted statuses, of the over-exaggeration of the seemingly normal achievements and activities, of the ridiculous expectations and mostly of the commoditization of people. She was embarrassed to bare her soul with every other person who came along as eligible. “Am I weird?” she was beginning to think. Yet, she nursed a faint flicker of hope. She knew, that someday, she would meet the man who would sweep her off her feet and then life would be beautiful. She smiled at that thought as she drifted to sleep…

Their boyhood is slowly graduating towards manhood and there are tell-tale signs of the same both physically and behaviorally. This is the age when all external advice and goodwill is promptly warded off as voodoo. Ironically, it is often at this blind turn on the life-road that they discover cigarettes, drugs and the works. I often see a group of young boys smoking at the road-side shop on my way to work. While they fantasize about their future looking dreamily into the swirls of tobacco smoke, I despair and sigh for the young lives being wasted……

Komal hated this time of the year. Everybody seemed to have something exciting planned for the night and seemed over-eager to share their plans with her. She sulked at the thought of going through the annual ritual for the 30th year of her life – ShammiChacha and PummiChachi would arrive by dusk. PummiChachi would get carrot halwa for the party; hadn’t the birthday girl always loved it? Ma would make aaloo matar and Papa would make a trip to the baker’s for the bread. Daadi would be glued to her rocking chair watching TV; lately Daadi didn’t care much about visitors. Anju and Manjubua would come with their clichéd gift - a horrid colored suit-piece. The gift would be later given to St. Martha’s Church’s Easter charity. Post dinner, Papa would play the ‘BoneyM Hits’ LP record and they would urge Komal to dance, while they simply clapped with a wondrous-lovey look in their eyes. She was the only child in the family and how she hated that - especially on her birthday that fell on New Years Eve…..